Ice and Fire
by Carveus666
Summary: 205 years later Ichabod Crane's decendant returns to the Hollow.
1. Chapter 1 Dreaming

Hideyho!  It is I!  This is my first Sleepy Hollow fic; I hope more are to come along the line.  Now the official bit.

I do not own the novel 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow' or the film based on the novel named 'Sleepy Hollow'.  I'm just borrowing the characters and the setting.  It's for non-profit reasons and is my own personal homage to a great book and an amazing film (Johnny Depp… drool).

I hope you all enjoy.  Please, please, please review.  My updates may be sporadic, I have a lot on at the moment, and I tend to get lumbered with writer's block a lot.

Once again, I hope you all enjoy this little thing I have dreamed up, literally.  I'm like Mary Shelly.  I get inspirational dreams…

Now on with the show!

Ice and Fire, by Carveus666.

Chapter One.

Wind whipped her hair back, bent low over her mare, desperately trying to outrun the horror behind her.  Glancing back the demon was mere two lengths away from her now.  Crouching a little closer to the grey's mane, she tried to conjure some more speed.  But to no avail.  The demon came up next to her, grabbed her arm, and yanked.  The grey stumbled and fell onto the dirt track.  She rolled clear and saw the mare get up off its knees and charge of out of the woods.  As her adversary approached her, the edges of her vision began to blacken and there was a strange roaring in her ears.  Just before he got to her, she fell into a dead faint.

In a small village in the North West of England, Elizabeth Crane woke up sweating.

YAY!  First chappie done!  Please note that I always do a dramatic, yet short opening chapter to hook the readers.  Check out my other works at If you like, review even if you just want to send a flame.  You've got a another chapter already, so read on.  I hope you enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2 New Arrivals

Hello gentles all!  I just watched Henry V with Kenneth Branagh!  YAH!  Disclaimer is in the first chapter; it counts the entirety of the story.  Please review.  Flames are excepted as constructive criticism.  I will everything as a compliment.

Enjoy this little ditty.  Heehee.  I said ditty.

Ice and Fire, by Carveus666.

Chapter Two.

The next morning the newly turned 18-year-old walked through the maze of boxes to get to the kitchen and put the kettle on.  Dressed only in a loose pair of pyjamas, her flame red hair sticking in every direction, she yawned.

Elizabeth stretched then open a cupboard and pulled out a mug.  She rooted through the nearest box and pulled out a jar of instant coffee.  Groping for a spoon and finally finding one, she put a generous amount in the cup.  Once the kettle had boiled she poured in the water a stirred it whilst looking out the window with dead eyes.

Almost downing it in one, Liz let out a contented sigh.  "Thank the Goddess for caffeine."  Putting the mug in the washing up bowl, she went upstairs again to get dressed.

Ten minutes later, clad in a black V-neck with three-quarter sleeves and a pair of combat pants and her not quite sticking up so much, she picked up her mail.

"Bill, bill, ooh I've won a million quid, invoice, postcard from Katie, she's in Egypt now huh?  Official looking from…  Sleepy Hollow."  A frown creased her brow.  Dropping the others, she got a knife and opened the letter.

She scanned the page whilst mumbling to her self.  "Ms. Crane.  We regret to inform you that Isaac Crane, your grandfather has died.  We would like for you to attend the will reading.  Passage to the United States has booked, blah, tickets enclosed.  We await your reply.  Yours, random lawyer person.  Considering I never met the man, they're going to a lot of trouble."  Liz let out a sigh.  "I guess unpacking can wait a few days.  And I've always wanted to go to the States."

Liz put the letter down.  She should feel sad; her grandfather had been her only family.  But she had barely known he existed.  After the death of parents when she was two, she had been fostered rather than stay with him.  And now she was eighteen she could move into the house that her parents had left her.

"Le' see these tickets.  Departure date, departure date…  TOMORROW!  Good job I don't have a job.  Guess I'll pack me bags."  She paused and let out another sigh.  "Note to self, stop talking to self so much."  Sighing yet again, she wove her way around the boxes to her bedroom to pack.

Elizabeth arrived in Sleepy Hollow seriously jet lagged.  Picking up her bags, she walked down the main street.  Sleepy Hollow still looked as it did at the beginning of the twentieth century.  Only people walking around in modern clothes showed that she hadn't gone back in time.  Glancing down at the letter, she had received a couple of days earlier she walked towards what it said to be her grandfather's solicitor's office.

Ignoring some of the looks she got, she knocked on the door and went in.  Through the dim light, she saw a young man at a desk, bent over something and scribbling furiously.

"Ahem."  No reaction from the young man, she might of well as been talking to herself.  "AHEM!"  At school, Liz had always been interested in drama, and she knew how to project her voice.  It had the desired effect.  The man jumped up and looked around before his gaze fell on her.  "Hello.  Mr. Simon Jones?"  He nodded, Liz held out her hand.  "I'm Elizabeth Crane.  I'm here for the will reading."

**Simon's POV**

This was the last Crane.  This girl, she couldn't be more than nineteen.  Dressed in a black long sleeved top with black combat trousers on, and what appears to be a pair of army boots.  I stare at the offered hand before me.  I reach out, take it, and look up at her face.  Her resemblance to Mr Crane is remarkable.  It's only the fiery red hair that is different, but it sticks out all over the place in true Crane style.  Gathering my wits, I remember why we are here.  "Ah, yes.  Miss Crane-"

"Please call me Liz, Miss Crane makes me sound about forty."  She had a small smile on her face when she said that and her icy blue eyes seemed to twinkle.

"Yes, well uh Liz, there isn't all that much will to read.  Mr Crane has left everything to you."

"Me?"  She blinked rapidly.

"Yes, you are his sole heir, and his only living relative.  The last of the Crane's.  There is one condition though."

"Yes?"

"Err, the will states that to come into your inheritance, you must take up residence in Sleepy Hollow."

"Oh."  Her eyes were as wide as saucers.  Probably to much information at once.  She sank into a nearby chair.  "Oh yes, one more thing.  Mr Crane left a letter in my possession to give to you after you had found out."  I went over to my desk and found it buried underneath some papers.  "This is the one."  I handed it to her and she took it wordlessly.

**Liz's POV**

This lawyer person had just told me I had inherited the entire Crane family fortune.  I had always known that the family was well off, but this was like whoa.  I look up from the chair I had sat down in and got a better look at Mr Jones.  He was a couple of inches taller than me, about 6'8".  He had honey coloured hair which he kept short apart from curtains at the front.  He had emerald green eyes and a pair of half moon spectacles were perched on the bridge of his nose he was pale, but nowhere near me.  He was sort of good looking and about fifteen years my senior.  He spoke again.

"A room has been prepared for you at the manor.  We can go over the details tomorrow.  I imagine all that you want to do now is go to sleep."  I nodded mutely.  "I'll walk you there and introduce you to the house keeper."  I got up, picked up my bags, and followed Simon out the door.

The next Chapter will be longer.  I promise. This is the last one you get on credit.  So if you want more after this REVIEW!

Actually, I'll just update when I finish it.  It's about 2/3's done, so hopefully it'll be up in a few days.  And it'll have everyone's favourite Horseman in.  YAY!


	3. Chapter 3 Heritage Found

Hello again all you happy (or unhappy) people!  Are you ready for more?  I don't care!  Here's another chapter.  I watched the Silence of the Lambs last night.  Have the lambs stopped screaming yet?

Yes, I do know I'm mad.  Have fun.  Note: Standard disclaimer applies.  If you liked this fic, please review.  Other fics by this author can be viewed by clicking on her name up there.  Now are you sitting comfortably?  Good.  Then I'll begin.

thoughts

Ice and Fire by Carveus666.

Chapter Three.

Elizabeth sat in the attic room of the Crane manor.  This was the only room that wasn't covered in dust or had a dead body in it.  The dead body was her late grandfather, who had been laid out in his old bedroom.  But she didn't mind the attic.  In fact, she liked it.  There was a small, low bed against one of the walls, a small desk cum dressing table.  The rest of the room was filled with boxes and a large, old and rather battered trunk which she currently picking the lock of.

Elizabeth had gone to school with some 'shady' characters and, despite her foster parents misgiving, had befriended a few of them.  They had taken it upon themselves to teach her the finer arts of breaking and entering.  Skills she had employed to great effect to the schools confiscated items cupboard.  Other things she had picked up were pick pocketing, forgery, and street fighting.  She had also learnt to always be prepared for the worst.  Her boots may look like regular army boots, but they were custom made to hold a throwing knife against her inside leg.  Of course had never had to use tem, but that didn't mean she didn't know how.

Hearing a satisfying click, she opened it up.  Inside was a few old books, what looked like an ancient chemistry set, some very peculiar looking instruments, and a pair of glasses which when she looked through them turned out to be magnifying glasses.

She put her booty down on the floor and looked at the letter still sealed in its envelope on the bed.  Let's get this over with.She perched on the edge of the bed and picked up the letter.  She turned it over and brushed her fingers over the sealing wax bearing the Crane family seal.  Tucking her finger under the tongue of the envelope she broke the seal and pulled out the letter.  Slowly, she began to read.

_To my darling granddaughter._

_If you are reading this then I will be dead.  Although I have only seen you once, I fear that it may have been the last._

_My son, although I love him, will not allow us to be reunited.  He fears that I will influence you with my stories of magik and headless horsemen.  But I know that whatever my son does.  He will not be able to prevent you from finding the old ways._

_You are only a babe and yet when I held you I could feel that you are extremely powerful._

_That is why I have left you everything, but with that one condition.  You must stay at Sleepy Hollow.  There is an evil there, which if awakened, cannot be stopped without great difficulty._

_In the Western Woods by the Tree of the Dead, lies the grave of the Hessian Horseman from legend.  If he is awakened then it is your duty to stop him.  My great grandfather, Ichabod Crane, stopped him once before._

_I do not know how to stop him, or how he is awakened, but the details of how he was stopped the first time lie in the diary of Ichabod Crane.  The diary and the possessions of Ichabod lie in a trunk in the attic.  Inclosed in this letter is the key to that trunk.  Guard it well.  I pray that you will never need them._

_Your loving grandfather,_

_Isaac Crane._

"There was a key!  This is what happens when you don't read the letter first.  And how did he know that I would become a witch."  Liz yawned loudly.  "Further investigation can wait till the morning.  Good night, to anyone who may be listening.  And if anyone is listening, eavesdropping is rude."

And with that she got into the bed and fell asleep.

The next morning, feeling much refreshed, Liz got up and dressed and made her way down stairs to the dining room.  The housekeeper, Mrs Deane, came bustling in with a plate laden with bacon, sausage, fried eggs (A/N sunny side up, with gooey yolks homer drool), and fried bread.  Thanking her profusely, Liz got started on her gargantuan breakfast.

Later and feeling very full, she made her way back to Mr Jones office in the town.  Knocking, and then going in, she found him in deep discussion with an officious looking man, noticing her presence Simon looked up and said, "Ah, Miss Crane how nice of you to join us.  This is the local magistrate, Richard Price.  He was a good friend of your grandfather's."

Liz smiled and offered a hand, which the magistrate took.  "How do you do?"  Liz used #43 the how nice to meet you smile.  Elizabeth Crane smiles for all occasions.

"As well as can be expected Miss Crane.  Your grandfather will be greatly missed in the community."  Mr Price had the perfect expression of regretful loss on his face.  Oh, this man knew how to play the game all right.  (A/N The most fun game of all!  Politics!)

"I just wish I had been able to meet him."  Thoughtful face #5.  "Hopefully the community will grow to like me just as much."

"I'm sure they will Miss Crane.  Now if you will excuse me, I have some business to attend to."  And with that, he left.

"If you would come this way Mi- Liz."  Simon led Liz into an adjoining room with two comfortable looking chairs and a table with a bulging file on it.  Liz sat down on the nearest chair, and Simon sat on the other.

**Simon's POV**

As she its down opposite from me, I seem to notice trivial little things.  Get a grip on yourself man!  Is that black nail varnish…?  You're her deceased grandfather's solicitor for crying out loud!  She's wearing a V-neck today, some different combats, and some fingerless mitts.  Still all black though.  And a trench coat for some reason.  She seems very fond of the colour black.  Of course, it could just be that she's in mourning, but somehow I think that she just has a solely black wardrobe.

She's raising an eyebrow, must have caught me staring.  I look down and clear my throat.  "Well, Mi- Liz."  First names are personal.  I am her deceased grandfather's solicitor.  We shouldn't be on first name basis, let alone abbreviations!  I pick up the file on the table and open it at the appropriate place.

"Uh, your grandfather had quite a large estate and as his sole heir, we have quite a few details to work through.  Ahem, well firstly there is the manor in which you are currently staying, and the old Van Garret manor aswell.  There are the town's stables and a number of strips of land and cottages occupied by tenant farmers that will pay you rent which you set.  Er," readjusting my glasses I scan the page before me, "There's a flat in New York which you also rent out.  There's also your grandfather's Swiss bank account, which we can have put under your name.  I'm not sure exactly how much is in there but it should be adequate for you to live a life of leisure.  There's also about 3 acres of pasture where there a number of horses grazing at the moment, but there are stables at the Crane manor with full tack and a carriage if I'm not mistaken."

**Liz's POV**

"Horses?"  I can feel my eyes light up.  Simon sends me a questioning glance.  "When I was younger I had riding lessons.  I've always loved to ride.  I'd like to go and look at them later."  And you can see so much more on horseback, like woods.  Ah, a plan forms.

"Yes, of course.  Uh, if you are to stay in Sleepy Hollow, you'll have to have your belongings sent over and then there's the matter of selling the house.  Or you could keep it, but rent it out.  It's your choice."

"I think it would be best if I went back for a couple of days to gather my things.  I think it would be best to sell the house, so I would have to sort that out.  It would probably be best to go after everything is sorted out.  How long do you think that will take?"

"A week at least."

"Well, I can arrange a few things over the Internet."  He's frowning.  Not a good sign.  "You do have a connection, don't you?"

"I'm afraid not.  Nobody out here seems to want it."

"Well, when I bring my computer over I can get it then.  No point living in the Dark Ages, is there?"  Why does my voice sound so falsely bright?  Well, personally I'm surprised they have electricity.  Everything round here kinda screams old.

"Yes, well I suppose you're right.  Well, I think we're all done here for now.  I need to draw up some paper work.  So, same time tomorrow?"

"Yes, that'll be fine."  I smile, rise, and walk out.  Oh, my trench does the billowy thing.  You know I could have sworn he was checking me out earlier, if it wasn't for the faintly alarmed look in his eyes.  I don't think he approves of black nail varnish.  Ah well, screw him.  This town needs to come into the twenty first century.  And I'm just the woman for the job.  This is going to be very interesting…

Half an hour later, having taken off her trench coat and removed her boot knives so she could tuck her combats in; Elizabeth was standing in a field with five horses and Mr. Russell, the man who looked after them.

"The two bays 're Brandy 'n' Tom.  Tom's the one with the star.  The piebald's Patches.  The dapple-grey's Pebbles, 'n' the grey's Ghost.  If yer wanna try 'un I can get the tack."

"Yes, please.  Could you please get Ghost's?"  He nodded.  "Thank you."

Whilst waiting for Mr Russell to get back she let Ghost nuzzle her hand.  "A fitting name for one I'm going to hunt a ghost on."  Patting the mare's neck, she had brief flashback to the dream she had woken up from a few nights ago.  "Hopefully the ghost won't find us."

Just then, Mr Russell came back with Ghost's tack.  After she helped to get it on and adjusted the stirrups, Liz swung up into the saddle and took the up reins.  "I'm glad I wore my mitts.  Here we go."

She started Ghost off walking, then began posting, as it became a trot.  After a little while, she nudged the mare into a canter, which then became a full-blown gallop.  Laughing aloud as the wind played with her hair, and Liz realised that she wasn't wearing a hard hat.  Not caring, she eased back into a canter, then slowed to a trot, and then to a walk, and the stopped back where she had started.

"She rides like a dream."  Liz rubbed Ghost's neck affectionately.

"Tha' she does miss.  Tha' she does."

"I'd like to do some exploring of the local countryside now.  Would you be so kind as to have stall prepared for her at the manor?"

"Yes miss."

"Thank you."  Liz smiled at him, and then brought Ghost round.  "I may be some time, so don't worry if I'm a bit late."

"If I can be s'bold, can I ask where yer goin'?"

"Out to the Western Woods."

A look of faint horror appeared on his face.  "Yer don't wanna be riding there after dark. The Headless Horseman roams the woods, lookin for 'eads to add to 'is collection."

"I know."  She smirked slightly.  "If I see him, I'll be sure to give him your regards."

And with that, Liz cantered of into the suset.  Or rather she got Ghost to begin walking out of the field and onto the path headed to the Western Woods.

After riding for hours, she called a stop.  It was twilight and Liz had reached her destination, although she did not yet know it.  Dismounting Liz and tying Ghost's reins to a near by branch, she walked up to the twisted trunk that was the Tree of the Dead.

Slowly, hesitantly, she rested her hand on the bark.  She pulled her hand back as if burnt.

"Warm…"

Even more slowly this time, she rested her hand on the bark.  Closing her eyes and stretched out her mind, she tried to get a feel for the place with her magik.  Her eyes flew back open and she stumbled back from the tree, shivering violently.  Backing up she rapidly untied the knot the held Ghost to the tree.

She had just got it undone and had vaulted up into the saddle as the tree opened and out came charging the Hessian on his great black war-horse.  (A/N Yay for the Hessian!)

Ghost reared in panic and Liz fought to stay on.  He was a fearsome sight.  Wild brown hair, death pale skin and blue eyes colder the deepest of winters.  Wheeling round, she took off through the woods, the Hessian chasing after her.

Wind whipping her hair back, Liz had lost track of how long this chase had been going.  Praying that they were near the edge of the woods, she hazarded a glance back.  The Horseman, for that was who it must be, was a mere two lengths away and closing.  She crouched closer to Ghost's neck and tried to coax a little more speed from her, but the mar was already going flat out.

All of a sudden, he was next to her, his horse matching hers stride for stride.  Liz tried to steer Ghost away, but it was too late.  The Horseman grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her off her horse.

She landed on the ground with a thud, and rolled to the edge of the track.  Ghost carried on without her after recovering from the stumble.  A variety of curse words streamed through her head, but she was too scared to cry out.  She scrambled to her feet, determined to face her foe standing.

The Horseman had slowed and his steed reared, screaming a war cry.  The Hessian dismounted and approached her slowly.

There was a strange roaring in her ears, and the edges of her vision began to blacken.  There Horseman was a mere three paces away, and Elizabeth Crane lived up to her name sake and fell into a dead faint.

Next chapter, In the Lair of the Hessian Horseman, (he has his head, so he's the Hessian.  I can hardly call him headless if he has a head!).

YAY!  I have reviews!  Thank you, you lovely people!

**oi-oi-oi: **Thank you for the compliment.  I think everyone says that about coffee.  But don't worry, all shall be revealed in the next chapter.

**miss.understoodHAHAIdidntsignin!takethatfanfiction.net!!:** You liked it that much?  Aw shucks… Blushes She's from England!  The Horseman rocks!  P.S.  BANANAS!

If you have any ideas for the next chapter, review!  Waves hand you will review.  No that doesn't work.  Pulls out wand _Imperio_.  Review this story.  No this is Sleepy Hollow.  Um…  Review or I'll set the Headless Horseman on you!  MWAHAHAHAHAHA!

And please note, when in this chapter Liz say's she's a witch, I mean she follows the beliefs of Wicca.  No Satanism here people!  Witches don't believe in the Devil, let alone worship him.  That was hearsay created by the Christian church when they tried to get rid of Paganism.  Now that is my little rant is over, REVIEW!

Blessed Be, Carveus666.

P.S.  Posting means rising trot.  To non-riders, this means that you rise out of the saddle and go back down into it with rhythm of the horse.  It's a lot more comfortable than sitting trot.  Winces at saddle sores.


	4. Chapter 4 In The Horseman's Den

Hello again!  I hope you liked the last chapter.  The Horseman makes his first appearance!  YAY!

I'm sorry this chapter has taken so long, but I had to get it just right, ya know?  Well now, it's here.  YAY!  I have some new boots!  YAY!  They're blue suede with yellow stars!  And they're Doc Martins!  WOW!

Thank you to my lovely, lovely reviewers!  I love you all!

**Darth Zelda:** Thanks.  Sorry it took so long.

**mellowyellow36:** Glad you do.

**Liliana****:** If it told you it would kind of spoil the story.  But I'm glad you like.

**Mintycakeyfroggies****:**  I'll try and make it longer.  Glad you like.

**tabby**** cat:**  I promise you you're not a spaz.  I know weirder people than you…  CoughMintycakeyfroggiescough.  More black wearing on the way!

This fic is currently un-beta'd, so if anyone would like to volunteer it would be much appreciated.  You can contact me via e-mail on my page.  There's a link to it in the first chapter.

You know I would like to get an idea on the numbers reading this.  And any suggestions for anything you want to see happening will be appreciated.  This is NOT going to turn into a love story.  Icky, icky mush!  But at the moment I have pretty much no idea what to do next.  All answers on a postcard please!  (British joke…)  I could always turn it into a xover…  But what with…  I'll put it to a vote.  All votes are to be registered by means of reviewing!  See not only does it give you a chance to influence the story, reviews make me type faster!  BIG incentive if you like this fic.  YAY!

I'm going on holiday for two weeks to Scotland with no computer, but I will take a note pad and a pen.  This chapter isn't complete, but I wanted to post something before I left so it's chapter 4 part a.  All clear?  YAY!

YAY!  I'm saying YAY a lot, aren't I?  Well, good for me.  YAY!

**Ice and Fire, by Carveus666**

**Chapter 4.**

**Horseman's POV**

The girl witch fell to the ground, just as I had seen the boy do so on so many occasions.  Walking over to her prone form, I crouched down turned her so I could see her face.  Her face was an eerie mix of the boy and the white witch.  Her hair was flame red, but stuck up in all directions like the boy's had.  The brief glance I had caught of her eyes had shown them to be almost as icy blue as my own.  She was a creature of ice and fire, much like myself.  (A/N.  Ha!  I got the title in!  Now you know what it means!)

Picking her up gently, I carry her over to Daredevil and placed her gently in the saddle.  Mounting behind her, I take the reins in one had, and I slid my other arm round her waist to support her.  Bringing Daredevil into a canter, we took off through the forest to my home in the Tree.  All manner of creatures fled before me, as if I am the Devil himself.

As I reach the clearing, the roots of the Tree opened and swallowed Daredevil, our passenger, and me whole.

Dismounting slowly, I pick up my unconscious passenger and lay her down slowly on my bed.  I look down at my guest, and tuck some stray hairs behind her ear.

I turn back to Daredevil and slowly pat the horse's neck, my usual fearsome visage softening in affection.  Daredevil snorts and paws the ground in reply.  The horse fades away to where ever he goes when I do not have need to call him.  Sitting down in my chair, I face the bed and wait.

**End Horseman's POV**

Elizabeth woke up to the sound of a fire.  She snuggled her head down on the pillow, quite content.  A sudden flash of memory and her eyes flew open, sat up on the huge king sized bed, and took in her surroundings.  A great cavern made of roots with a reddish tinge.  Looking around it was difficult to tell where the walls began and ended.  She focused on the area surrounding her.  It was all very Spartan, a fire, a sturdy table and chair, and the bed she was currently sitting on.  And sitting on the chair was the Horseman, resplendent in his black and silver dragon patterned armour, who was staring at her in fascination.

"Wh-where am I?"  Inwardly Elizabeth flinched at her stutter.  She couldn't believe that she had fainted either.  She never fainted.  Well, maybe once before.  Oh, who was she kidding.  She fainted at a drop of the hat.  Didn't mean she had to like it though.

"In my home."  She jumped a little, not really expecting an answer.  The Horseman's voice was not how she had expected it.  It was warm and rich, even if it was marked by a heavy German accent.

"So you're the Horseman I've been hearing so much about."  He nodded.  "You know, I kind of expected you to be, you know… headless."  His winter blue eyes softened into what could almost be taken as amusement.  He let out a short bark of laughter and smiled.  The smile made Liz shiver; his teeth had been filled down to fangs giving his already sinister appearance a macabre feel.  The laughter stopped as abruptly as it began, and he went back to studying her intently.  Liz felt uncomfortable under his gaze.  There was an awkward silence, which was broken suddenly by the Horseman.

"You look a lot like them."

"Who?"

"The boy and the white witch."

"Do you mean Ichabod Crane and Katrina Van Tassell?"  The Horseman looked confused at the names.  "The ones who stopped you last time."  The Horseman nodded.  "They're my great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandparents."

"Has it been that long?"  Bewilderment marked his voice and there was puzzlement in his eyes.

"It's the year 2004.  They stopped you," she paused to do a brief mental calculation, "205 years ago."

"205 years?  Mien Gott."  He looked so lost at that, slumped in his chair.

"Guess it's a lot to take in."  She paused and looked down at the crisp white sheets.  "I have a question.  I appreciate being alive and all, but why didn't you cut of my head.  I mean you're kinda famous for it."

"I have a debt to your family.  They returned my skull to me after it was stolen by the black witch."  The Horseman said this with an almost reverence in his voice.

"Huh?  Now I'm confused."  Confusion contorted her features.

"The black witch stole my skull and used it to get me to exact her revenge on the villagers.  The boy returned my skull to me and freed me from the black witch's power."

"Oh, that's nice to know."  The Horseman looked at her confused.  "My grandfather left me a letter telling me that I would have to stop you if you ever rose on a mad killing spree again.  Nice to know you don't do it of your own free will.  And how to stop the entire mad killing spree thing."

"You say your grandfather left you a letter, what about your parents?  Surely they are here to share the responsibility of safeguarding the Hollow."

Liz looked down at the sheets again.  "My parents died in a car crash when I was two years old.  We had moved over to England just after I was born, and I grew up in foster care."

"I'm sorry.  What is a car?"

"You don't what a car is?  Wait, you've been out of the loop for 205 years, that generally puts you behind on modern events.  A car is kinda like… a horseless carriage.  That's the only way that I can think to explain it."  She smiled shyly.  "What's your name?"  She paused and realised that he didn't know hers.  "I'm Elizabeth, but you can call me Liz if you want."

He nodded his head, a subtle movement she almost missed.  "My name was…" he trailed of, brow furrowed in concentration and annoyance.  He looked back up at her and said, "I'm sorry, it has been along time.  For the last few years of my life, it was Horseman, or 'Hey you'.  My name was… Christiaan.  That's it.  Christiaan."

"Christiaan."  Liz smiled.  "I am sitting on a bed, inside what I presume is that big scary tree out there, talking to Christiaan, the formerly Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow."  She sighed.  "It's official.  My life is not like other peoples."

YAY for the Horseman, or should I call him Christiaan.  In regards to the name, I've read a few other fics, and that's the most common name for the Horseman.  I have no ideas when it comes to German names.  All I know in German is Hello, Yes, No, Excuse me, and England 5, Germany 1.  Oh yeah, and My name is Emily.  Any other German used here is from a mini dictionary I scanked from my brother (he used to do German at school.).

Sorry to leave it there, but I couldn't think of anything else to put.  That, and as I've said I'm going on holiday and I wanted to leave you with something.  Oh well, I have two weeks to think about what comes next.

Well, I hope you all REVIEW!  Oh, don't mind me, I'm psychotic.

Blessed Be.  Carveus666


End file.
